A Court of Illusion and Pain

Chapter Four

A/N
Sorry for the long wait. I've been working on writing a few other stories with my own characters and worlds. I have a new story published called Kingdoms Fury, please check it out.

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CHAPTER FOUR

Azriel was furious—no, he was more than furious. There wasn't a word to describe how he felt inside. Seeing his mate abused and in pain. He hadn't been there to protect her. He was disgusted by the male in front of him, but also with himself.

     Seconds, it look a mere three seconds for Azriel to tackle the other male to the ground. His fists pounded against hard flesh. Blood soon covered his knuckles. The metallic scent of blood filled the air. Azriel heard the sharp intake of breath from the female behind him. She stood there, horror written across her face. He wasn't sure if it was directed at him.

The male spurred and Azriel threw another punch in his direction. When he was sure that the fae wouldn't awaken for a while, Azriel stood and turned to face his mate. He schooled his face into neutrality. His eyes held a glint of warmth. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?" Her voice was quiet, yet strong. But her face, it expressed pain and distrust. But why would she trust him? Azriel was a stranger after all.

"Everything," he answered. He took a careful, slow step. She didn't back away, so he took another. The snow crunched loudly underfoot. "Let me help you back." Azriel stretched his arm toward the young female, hoping she'd take it. Instead, she pulled away, cowering.

"No thank you."

It hurt more than he would admit. A deep pain filled his chest. Would she ever be willing to accept him? He wondered. He stepped back slowly, his eyes turning downcast in defeat. He hadn't gotten here in time.

"I..." she started, then stopped. Azriel looked back up, a little hopeful. Her long hair was unbound, melted snow dripping from the tips. Her face was pale and hollow. It was clear she hadn't been eating well.

"Will you at least tell me your name?" He asked.

"Aerell."

"Aerell," he repeated, tested. The name wasn't one he'd heard before, but it was beautiful. Everything about her seemed beautiful. Especially those midnight eyes and her moon-white skin. It contrasted to her sunshine hair nicely.

     A deep blush covered her cheeks. Azriel forced himself to reign in his smile.

"I guess I should thank you," she nodded her head in the unconscious male's direction. Azriel looked at him with disgust. He wanted so badly to wrap his hands around that pale throat, to feel the life drain out of him. But he wouldn't. Not in front of her—Aerell. Her name sent shivers down his spine. How could he feel this way? He had only just met her.

     Azriel took a deep breath. "Will I see you again?" He asked, hopeful.

     "No," she replied quickly. "I don't know... Probably not."

     "Is something wrong?" He asked. Azriel was suddenly concerned for her. She seemed to be growing anxious, like she had somewhere else to be. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, her legs were ready to carry her away.

     "I have to get back, my father is waiting." The way that word rolled off her tongue, there was something not quite right about it. But Azriel let it slide, he didn't want to annoy her with more questions.

     "Alright."

A startled look appeared across her face, but it was gone within seconds. Azriel watched as she turned away and left. His chest ached. He so badly wanted to go after her. But he forced himself to remain where he was. He would wait until she was gone. And then he would return to Velaris.

***

Rhysand and Cassian were sitting by the fire place in the townhouse when Azriel arrived. He treaded past them, a look of complete nonchalance about him. He would not show his friends the pain he felt.

"What have you been doing today?" Rhysand asked with a smile. He motioned with one hand for Azriel to join them on the couch. The shadow singer sat down, his movements silent. His eyes watched the crackling of the warm fire.

"Checking on Devlon," he replied. Rhys eyed him suspiciously but didn't ask him to explain. "Well while you've been away, Cassian here has made a complete fool of himself."

"I wouldn't say that," Cassian started. His cheeks were a little flushed.

"It seems our little friend Nesta has him completely wrapped around her finger." Ah, so nothing out of the ordinary then. It would seem that lately Cassian had been filling his days tending to Nesta's needs and wants.

"That's not a surprise," Azriel responded.

Cassian melted further into his chair, a look of annoyance crossing his face. Azriel pretended to listen to his friends converse while he continued to dwell on his encounter with his mate. What was she doing right now? He wondered. Was she safe from the male who had harmed her? Would she remain safe?

     All these thoughts were eating him from the inside.

     Before his friends could question him again, Azriel removed himself from the room with the grace of a cat. He scurried off to his room, a dark chamber filled with shadows and ancient things. The bed was a canopy of soft fabrics splayed neatly, the pillows propped up to perfection. Aside his bed sat an oak dresser with a painting on top. Three young men, all with dark messy hair and beautiful hazel eyes—Azriel and his brothers.

     He plopped onto his bed, his mind wrapped entirely around his mate. His mate. It sounded strange to him, the thought that she was real. He wanted to rush back to her and keep her safe from all her troubles. But how could he when she was not accepting of him? When she had walked away from him. He rolled over, struggling to fall asleep that night.